Jhapsuvainamaskar, in Annyatha Mullyaheena, MEMOIR.

JHAPSUVAI NAMASKAR (saluting brother Jhapsu in ANYATHA MULYAHEENA,ଅନ୍ୟଥା ମୂଲ୍ଯ୍ୟହୀନ,

 OTHERWISE WORTHLESS).

 This is not flashes of my childhood memoir of insignificant incidents now found to have new meanings; this is a memoir of an ordinary man who constantly kept time for the labor force of my village for forty long years without a break. He was Jhpsu whom all children addressed as Jhapsuvainamaskar meaning Salamwalekam brother Jhapsu, actually not only children but he was saluted by everyone like that. He never understood anybody`s joke and repaid every salute with a smile. Some even joked twice or thrice fur fun.

He had two work places all the years, all in his profession work in two places. The bearer of post bag, he brings Daka bag from the sub post office at Korai to the branch post office in my village Tulati. The post office in Tulati functioned in a very important sahi having uniquely working cast with equal importance. It was placed in a diagonal manner spreading from north east to south west, sandwiched between the singhsahi of snake keepers on south east side and Harijan sahi on the northwest. The sahi begins from a Panda Brahmin family who was our ME School teacher cum owner priest of lord Siva`s temple and it ends with a Big Brahmin family titled Dashas, paradoxically even if the sahi had names of several castly adjectives nobody called it Brahmanasahi. This was because another sahi was named so. Some people called it Badheisahi (sahi of carpenters), some told it Radhisahi (sahi of pressed rice producer), and others called it Kharada sahi those who deal with tin works and prepare edible lime from lime stones. The sahi was of other importance as the oldest rice mill that was running with diesel engine; the two panikundas (brick walled water containers) still exist. For children it was interesting to visit the spot to see these kundas to listen and see the work of the mill and how rice and bran came down on each side of the cemented structure over which the unhusked rice was loaded. I always asked me how the machine dehusks and makes rice and bran separate.

The other very important place was the post office, at the center of the sahi, where Jhapsuvai threw the bag namaskared the post master and left the place at once for some reasons. He told to himself; he should honour the post master and none else. From everyone else he expected one or more salutes which of course he returned with interest in form of a smile. He believed and told, no one could take any action on him, he was directly employed by none other than Indira Gandhi, he had no retirement, would work till death. Same thing he always repeated not as a megalomaniac, not with grandiosity but with conviction of surety. We must know a little more about him before what he did next.

He was not our villager; he was of Korai, with his house near the post office, police station, and the medium sized mosque. He did not work at Korai believed he was the employee of Tulati and vice versa, he believed carrying the bag on his head was his only duty to and fro. He looked old when we were children and he remained his own carbon copy even when we became middle aged with a few grey hairs. Daily eight kilometers walk kept him fit. He was thin with all bony prominences, wore a Dhoti like the native Indians with a kachha towards the backside and a thick Khaki shirt his official costume. His walk looked limping but he was not lame, this was as he was imbalanced with his always new umbrella hanged from his left shoulder. He did not require it as the water proof post bag worked as his protection from rain and Sun, but never forgot to carry it as he thought this was the rule, after all the department gave it to him. What he did with so many new umbrellas one per each year was my doubt from childhood till date. So with this small imbalance of load his limping also looked small. He bore a thin line of Raj Kapoor style moustache that looked prominent with the careless stains of betel red saliva. A trendy old Indian Hindu look of a poor innocent Muslim, as he believed Lungi and fatei was his home dress and he had to wear his Indian dress in office with the uniform.

Every day he walked about one kilometer inside Korai village as he reached hospital squire from there he moved north on the road that divides paddy field into two halves where the field workers worked in two shifts or sometimes in one long shift. Each day they waited Jhapsuvai not that they had to pay a namaskar or were interested for his post bag non permeable to the whole world or water or anything when it was in his hand but with his time of arrival they had to end first shift. No land owner could keep them working beyond that time. The position of Sun or the wrist watch of the owner was irrelevant for them. Probably it was approaching 1 PM. This was for the two shifters.

After throwing the post bag and saluting his only master, he each day rushed to the Brahmin`s house where he brushed his teeth with gudakhu (tobacco and jaggery mix, a toothpaste type red substance). He shouted for his requirement as if son of our teacher Sri Krushna Chandra Panda demanding, never with any tinge of begging was evident. He then rushed to his Gobaravai`s (my teacher Sri Nrusingha Moharan`s elder brother Sri Gobardhan Moharana) house and took his pet food a bowl of semi sour water rice with some additives. He was loved by both the houses, rather in the whole village. When he required he collected chuda (pressed rice), edible lime for his betel or anything from respective manufacturing houses in the sahi. Once his work is finished he could not wait, his master had to oblige him with the ready return postbag. Jhapsu was the time keeper how could he wait, seeing his return journey the single shifter laborer would return home, time about 2.30 PM to 3 PM. If he is not in time our village daka might not catch the Sub Post Office return time delayed by a day.

How I remember so much, what was my work there in post office. I was a regular visitor during the school recreation, several reasons were there. There was available The Samaj news paper subscribed by school, my two brothers were in army so we always waited for a letter, some regular news paper readers were gathering there who were knowledgeable debaters, and to pay a salute to Jhapsuvai.

I moved on, left the village but he continued, whenever I debated religious fanaticism I quoted Jhapsu, the practical real secularism of our great Indian tradition. No one can believe all of my villagers who were never fanatic in any count sent a brick with nominal coins for the Ayodha temple movement, Jhapsu not being a villager and not being a Hindu also contributed, this never was thought in hatred feeling as the villages largely were not pro or anti of any religious movements. Any one called in the name of religion was answered. This is where the hard liners blackmail. Interesting thing is the man who collected bricks and money did not know how to dispose the bricks, it is supposed the money was self consumed. Bricks?

Whenever the tensions were created in India by vested interest people in 1990s I was at Khariar and I always doubted can a riot any day is possible in my state, can anyone raise a sword on the Dhoti and Khaki shirt Jhapsu who is secular the real example of Indian secularism, my senses told not possible but what happened in 1947. In 1984, in 2002 many Jhpsus hounded, Oh my God.

He moved up and down those four kilometers daily except rare postal holidays, years after year, no one else covered the path more than him; I always called it Jhapsu Road. He retired in due time against his belief.

A month back I met a man from his sahi of Korai and Jhapsuvai is no more as I learnt.

(Dedicated to Jhapsuvai Namaskar and this piece is for national integration, not fake ask anyone from Tulati the geographical domain of Annytha Mullyaheena)